


Laws and Lawbreakers

by estelraca



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Another Way the Barricades Could Go, Canon Era, Gen, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24084247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: Bahorel is able to keep secrets, but he only keeps them if the secret is more important than the reasons for breaking it.  When Enjolras asks what assets they have to help them in the coming troubles, Bahorel answers honestly.
Relationships: Les Amis de l'ABC Friendship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25
Collections: 2020 Same-Prompt Fic Challenge





	Laws and Lawbreakers

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly little AU, but it was what immediately sprang to mind when I saw the prompt. Sneaking in at the last minute under the wire and just over the word count, but hopefully it makes someone smile!

_Laws and Lawbreakers_

“I didn't know you could do that.” Joly's voice is faint, trembling a bit at the edges.

“I'm fairly certain you _can't_ do that. That it shouldn't be physically possible, that there are laws that are being broken—whether those of biology or physics I am still trying to determine.” Combeferre's voice is slightly steadier, but not by much.

“But since you _have_ done it...” Enjolras sounds remarkably calm despite the fact that he is looking up at a monstrous black wolf, one whose elbow joint is taller than his head. The beast is crouched down so that it fits, though not comfortably, in the back room of the Musain that belongs to the Amis. “How often are you able to do it, and what other abilities, if any, does it grant you?”

“Enjolras!” Combeferre comes to put a hand on his friend's shoulder. “Surely you have more questions than _that_.”

“I'm not certain if _I_ do, though I am well aware that you and Joly and most likely all of the others do.” Enjolras reaches up to place his hand over Combeferre's. “But Bahorel did this in answer to my question about what resources we have at our disposal, so I assumed it would be all right if I were to finish getting the answer to that question before we moved on to others.”

The wolf's head shakes side to side, tongue lolling out, though he snaps his jaws closed before any strings of spittle can slip out.

Jehan, appearing completely unperturbed by anything that's happened, moves to stroke his hand along the wolf's left flank. The fact that he has to reach up to do so doesn't seem to bother him. “Bahorel, perhaps it would be easier to answer questions if you were to return to your usual form? Though I can answer them for you if you'd rather—”

As quickly as it appeared the great wolf is gone, leaving Bahorel—a very naked Bahorel—standing in its place.

Grantaire is the first to shrug out of his coat, handing it over to Bahorel. Grantaire's wine bottle has been shoved away from him for the first time all night.

Enjolras looks encouragingly to their still-mostly-naked companion.

Bahorel points at Enjolras. “Your questions first. I can do that as often as I want on a full moon night, and not at all on a new moon night. The nights in between, well, it depends. The closer to the full it is, the larger my wolf is and the more often I can shift. It's not something I'm supposed to do in company, but since when have I ascribed to the rules of others?”

“Certainly not when they're potentially damaging to those you care about.” Enjolras grabs a pen, clearly intent on taking notes.

Courfeyrac laughs, and there's only a bit of a nervous crack in the sound. “Bahorel, you care about as much for the rules as you care for the law—only in so much as understanding them allows you to flout them more effectively.”

Bahorel's grin only gets wider.

Joly raises his hand, his other clutching tight to Bossuet's fingers. “Can we return to the part where what you did should be physically impossible?”

Bahorel's grin dies away a bit. “We can, but I'm afraid I might not be able to give you the answers you wish. It's something I've always been able to do. My parents and siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles as well. A trait of our bloodline, perhaps? Though there are those not related to us who also have the gift. Our families tend to be close.”

There's a brief moment of silence as most of the Amis try to imagine not just a whole family full of Bahorels, but a whole family full of Bahorels who are also able to become giant wolves.

“But you don't...” Bossuet waves his hand in a vague circle. “Make this gift known?”

“Wolves are great creatures, but they are not immortal or invincible. A cannon can make short work of us. And on a pyre at the new moon is a terrible way to die.” Bahorel shrugs. “I have made no secret of being a werewolf. The fact that most people do not believe me is not my fault, and means that I receive only a few sternly worded letters from my family or our family friends. Though I would say none of us with the gift are _supporters_ of the monarchy, there are quite a few who care little about what happens with human politics so long as we are able to keep ourselves distant from the waves that follow.”

Jehan runs his fingers through Bahorel's hair with the same fondness he had the wolf's fur. “Bahorel, for his part, is smart enough to know that there are few places that will not be touched by the shockwaves of human intervention.”

Combeferre takes a step closer to Bahorel. “None of which explains how you are able to do something so spectacular. I would like to observe it more closely. You said that on days of the full moon, like today, you can do it as often as you'd like, correct? If so, then—”

Courfeyrac's hands come down on Combeferre's shoulders. “Perhaps you should find a more isolated place—and larger—to conduct these experiments? After we've completed our planning session?”

For a moment it looks like Combeferre is going to argue. Then he gives a reluctant nod. “Of course. Bahorel, if you would be willing...?”

“For at least a bit, because you are a good friend.” Bahorel's shoulders ripple in a lupine shrug. “But I doubt the wolf will want to sit _too_ still for _too_ long. Still, I wanted you all to know and see, since I thought it might be useful.”

“Depending on when matters come to a head...” Enjolras is busy looking over documents. “I cannot promise that the revolution will come on the full moon, and I will not risk you recklessly, werewolf or not. But it is a good thing to know.”

Bahorel grins yet again, and the rest of the meeting continues on as though he weren't sitting there mostly naked, dressed only in a friend's coat.

There will be time enough to dress later, when he's less likely to destroy his clothing again with an ill-timed transformation.

***

The fifth of June is not a full moon, but it isn't a new moon, either. Instead a half-moon grins down on the barricade, and in its twisting light an enormous black wolf shifts in and out of view.

He should have died earlier. If he had stayed in his human form, he would have, but the anatomy of a horse-sized wolf is not the anatomy of a man.

Perhaps harassing the soldier's lines won't make much difference. Perhaps it will be just one more story, one more oddity for people to whisper about that night.

But perhaps, if they are lucky—if Enjolras is right about which companies are more likely to break rank—a half-moon night will give them all the extra edge they need to win the day.


End file.
